


Playing with Fire

by weepingnaiad



Series: Scourged Hearts [1]
Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003), Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-24
Updated: 2008-08-24
Packaged: 2017-10-17 04:08:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingnaiad/pseuds/weepingnaiad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b>  Thranduil is followed by someone that should not…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing with Fire

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta:** Chaotic_Binky – Thanks so much, hon! You’re the very best!
> 
>  **A/N:** This was written for Minuial_Nuwing for the Drabble meme. Her request: _'How about Thranduil/Elladan, your choice of rating and scene?'_
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** The characters and world belong to the Master himself, Tolkien. I am only borrowing them so they can come out and frolic a bit, not intending any copyright infringement of any sort. I do own my original characters, but they are available for parties!

Thranduil slipped out of the Hall of Fire and walked aimlessly in the gardens of Imladris. Grey eyes narrowed as he slid out of the festivities and, unbeknownst to the Sinda, he acquired a dark shadow trailing after him. The king’s mind was plagued with worry for his people and he was not fit company. As Ithil rose and bathed the greenery in cool, silvery light, the hidden depths of the forest beckoned and he heeded their call.

As the forest welcomed him, Thranduil felt his mood lighten. The trees of his home had always calmed and soothed his weary spirit and the ones in Imladris were no different. While slowly walking the moonlit path, his hands slid across the bark, each touch restoring him. So lost in his thoughts, he was unaware of being followed, until he lingered against a particularly wizened oak. The tree, ancient by ordinary standards, had roots which reached far and wide and could sense the follower’s nervous intent from his rapid heartrate and breathing. This concerned the oak and it conveyed the follower’s presence to the king.

Elladan questioned his judgment as he watched Thranduil slip silently into the dark woods. He had hoped to speak to the king in the gardens, but it was now obvious that Thranduil was unaware that he was being followed and seemed to greatly desire being alone. Taking a deep breath, he tracked the king, barely keeping the golden head in sight. As he wound through the trees, Elladan realized that he had not caught sight of the king for far too long. His eyes darted nervously, searching for glimpses of blond hair, but finding none. Hesitant at revealing himself, he finally moved out of the treeline and onto the moon-dappled path.

A wicked smile lit Thranduil’s face as he recognized who had been trailing him. Dropping down silently behind the half-elf, he quickly wrapped his arm about Elladan’s neck, pulling him tightly against his chest. “Why do you follow me, young one? That can be _quite_ foolhardy.” His words hissed softly past Elladan’s ear.

Startled, his reaction too late to prevent capture, Elladan quietly gasped as his back was pulled firmly against a muscled torso. The king’s hot breath sent frissons of desire down his spine. This was not how he had envisioned their encounter.

“You have no answer?” Thranduil had been surreptitiously studying Elladan in Council, and wanted to see those grey eyes and full lips up close. He twisted Elladan’s body in his arms and pressed the Peredhel’s back against the oak, his own body fully aligned with his captive’s.

Now that the surprise was behind him, Elladan lifted his chin defiantly and glared at the king. “I am not afraid of you.” It was not fear that had his heart pounding against his ribs and made his breathing shallow.

Thranduil’s pulse quickened at the challenge in those steely eyes. He leaned closer and whispered breathily, his cheek pressed to Elladan’s. “Oh, but you _should_ be.” The Peredhel’s scent caught in his nostrils sending sharp arousal flaring in his groin. Not only was Elladan beautiful, smart and caustically funny, he was simply intoxicating and Thranduil had no will to resist.

Their eyes met and Elladan shivered. He froze as the intense desire in the king’s darkened gaze rooted him to the spot. He nervously licked suddenly dry lips as Thranduil held his head between calloused palms. The kiss was nothing like he expected. Instead of a furious, hard claiming invasion, the king’s lips met his tenderly, gently asking for entrance. Though light and almost teasing, the kiss set Elladan alight as none had before. He felt his knees give way and grabbed tightly to mithril-encased biceps to steady himself.

The young one was enticing and his responsiveness only fed the king’s hunger. Pulling back so that their lips were a hair’s breadth apart, he husked, “Nectar. Pure heaven.”

The Mirkwood king was proving to be all the rumors had said of him. Elladan was feeling overwhelmed by emotions that a mere kiss had never before inspired. He could form no words, but nodded, his lips parted slightly as he tugged on the firm muscles. Almost drowning in sensation as he felt an answering hardness press into his own, Elladan wanted _more_.

The next meeting of lips was exactly as Elladan had expected: bruising, claiming, and soul searing. Breathless, his head dropped to Thranduil’s shoulder as the world spun.

Warmth infused the king’s being and the cold dark places of his heart began to thaw. Sliding one hand through silken dark tresses, he reveled in the lithe body pressed close as a soft smile lit his features. Not wanting to move, but needing to see those eyes he pulled back and dropped a quick kiss on Elladan’s nose. “Are you certain, young one? Your Adar… you were forbidden me.”

Elladan frowned. “I am long past my majority. It is not his concern.”

Thranduil smiled, heartened, even though he knew they were playing a dangerous game, but that worry was for another time. He leaned in, pressing Elladan against the tree as he kissed him again. From the first kiss the king felt he could never get enough of those sweet lips. “Then come. I want to know if all of you tastes so fine.”

~~~*~~~

Elladan shut the door silently behind him and moved to sit on the edge of Elrohir’s bed. As he leaned down to tug off his boots, Elrohir sat up in bed, bleary eyes blinking at his twin. “Elladan!” He glanced to the window, before continuing, “Where have you been? It is nearly dawn.” The younger twin took in his brother’s disheveled appearance, a grin crossing his face as he noted the love mark blooming on Elladan’s neck and the fact that his shirt had been on backwards. “No need to tell me… your debauched appearance is explanation enough. But I would like to know who?”

Elladan, now in only barely-laced leggings, stretched out in bed next to his brother, a satisfied grin upon his face. He answered, smugly, “Playing with fire,” but would reveal nothing more.

Elrohir simply stared at his twin, watching over him as sleep quickly took him. Tenderly he plucked a leaf from Elladan’s mussed hair. Sighing he kissed his brother’s brow, “I hope you do not get burned, tôren.”


End file.
